hem--never even threatened to come near them.
When the winter was over, they could look back to what Jem called "a
tight spot" or two in the matter of boots and firewood, but on nothing
very serious after all.

The boots and the firewood were the worst things. No one can tell till
she has really tried, how much beyond the natural turn of existence
almost any garment may be made to last and wear to preserve an
appearance of respectability by a judicious and persevering use of
needle and thread. But boots, especially boys' boots, are unmanageable
in a woman's hands, and, indeed, in any hands beyond a certain stage of
dilapidation; and every one knows, that whatever else may be old, and
patched, and shabby, good boots are absolutely indispensable to the
keeping up of an appearance of respectability, and, indeed, one may say,
with some difference, to the keeping of a lad's self-respect. The boots
were matters of serious consideration.

As to the firewood, there is a great difference as to the comfort to be
got out of the same quantity of firewood, depending on the manner in
which it is used, but even with the utmost care and economy, it will
consume away, and in a country where during seven months of the year
fires are needed, a great deal must consume away. Even more than the
consideration given to the boots, the wood had to be considered, and it
was all the more a matter of difficulty, as economy in that direction
was a new necessity. Boots had always been a serious matter to the
Inglises, but wood had been plentiful at Gourlay. However, there were
boots enough, and wood enough, and to spare, and things that were vexing
to endure, were only amusing to look back upon, and when Spring came,
none of the Inglises looked back on the winter with regret, or forward
to the summer with dread, and so their first year in Singleton came
happily to an end.

CHAPTER TEN.

It was Saturday afternoon and a holiday with the schoolboys, of course.
It was a holiday to them all, for Mrs Inglis and Violet were out of
doors too, sitting on the gallery in the sunshine, and Davie was coming
home. He was at the moment crossing the bridge at a great pace, and so
eager to be among them, that instead of going soberly round by the gate,
as he was accustomed to do, he took Jem's fashion and swung himself
first over the side of the bridge, and then over the fence into the
garden. They might well look surprised, and all the more so that i